


The Right Way

by Moonsault



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: First Kiss, Foreshadowing, Huddling For Warmth, Kayfabe Compliant, M/M, Pre-Canon, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-31
Updated: 2017-10-31
Packaged: 2019-01-27 06:43:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12575996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moonsault/pseuds/Moonsault
Summary: Kevin and Sami get stranded in a blizzard on their way back from a show at an armory.  They have a talk and share some promises, among other things.





	The Right Way

_**Kevin:** Remember all those years ago, we were driving through a blizzard somewhere in Ohio, and we had just wrestled in an armory in front of forty-two people, maybe? Remember the promise we made that night? We promised we’d do everything in our power to get to WWE so we would never have to do that again._

_You remember that?_

_**Sami:** I remember._

(Smackdown, August 2017)

* * *

“Fuck,” Kevin announced to Sami, to the car, to the world in general. “Fuck, fuck, _fuck._ ” He turned the windshield wipers up to the highest speed and a frantic _vwip vwip vwip_ filled the car, but they could still barely see the road through the curtains of snow.

“This is no good,” Sami said.

“I _know_ it’s no fucking good,” Kevin snarled. The car slid a bit and his knuckles went white on the wheel. “Are you _sure_ we don’t have enough money for a hotel room?”

Sami sighed. “Unless you can find us a hotel that will let us stay for nineteen dollars and sixty-three cents, we are out of luck.”

“And both of our credit cards are currently maxed out.”

Sami winced, remembering the sting of humiliation at having his card rejected at Cracker Barrel. “Yes.”

The muscles in Kevin’s jaw bunched. “Then we just gotta keep going.” The snow swirled around the car as they inched along the highway. No one else seemed to be out in this weather. It was eerie, so still. Just the two of them.

The car fishtailed wildly and Sami and Kevin cursed in unison. “No,” said Sami. “No, no, no. The two greatest wrestlers in the world will _not_ end up dead in a ditch somewhere, Kevin.”

“The two greatest-- _look_ at us,” Kevin said. “We’re flat broke, we just wrestled in a fucking _armory_ in front of _forty-two people--_ ”

Sami held up a hand. “To be fair, Kevin, with an incoming storm, forty-two isn’t a bad turnout.”

Kevin made a hissing, annoyed sound. “And then the promoter didn’t even _pay us._ How long is this going to go on, Sami? How long can we keep doing this shit?”

“As long as it _takes,_ ” Sami snapped. “Or are you _giving up_?”

He regretted it the minute he’d said it; Kevin’s hands tightened on the wheel again and the corners of his eyes went tight with pain. “I’m not giving up,” he said in a flat voice.

“I know you’re not.” Sami tried to put his apology into his voice. He sucked at apologizing--really apologizing, not just babbling “I’m sorry” when he tripped over something. “You never will.” Through the shifting blizzard, a sign caught his eye. “Hey. There’s a rest stop. Just--pull over, okay?”

Kevin pulled the car over in silence, his jawline still set as if in anger, or grief. He didn’t look at Sami as they pulled into a parking space. There were no other cars there.

“Let’s just spend the night in the car,” Sami said. “It’s less dangerous.”

Kevin turned off the engine. “It’s gonna get cold,” he said.

“We’re Canadian,” Sami said. “This is Ohio. How bad can it get?” He hunched down in his seat. Snowflakes were melting on the windshield, trickling down it in little rivulets. It was weirdly quiet.

“I guess forty-two people isn’t that bad,” Kevin said after a moment.

“We’ve wrestled in front of lots less,” Sami said. “And we’ll wrestle in front of lots more. WrestleMania, someday.”

Kevin snorted softly, then sighed. “Usually I can believe that,” he said. “But I dunno. Tonight I just feel like I’ll…” He paused and swallowed hard. “Like I’ll never get what I want.”

“That’s dumb,” said Sami. “You’re the best wrestler in the world. You’re going to get everything you’ve ever dreamed of someday.”

“Maybe.” Kevin looked away from him, out at the swirling snow. The snow had stopped melting on the windshield and was slowly building up, flake by flake, cutting off the rest of the world. The car was getting colder pretty fast.

“Look,” said Sami. “I want you to promise me, Kevin. Promise me that you’ll never give up on your dream. That you’ll do whatever it takes. If you promise me that, I _know_ you’ll get it.” 

It was starting to get dark in the car as the snow built up, but Sami could see the flash of Kevin’s eyes as he turned to look at him. “Okay,” Kevin said. “But you gotta promise me too.”

“Okay,” said Sami. “But I don’t need to. If you make it to WWE, you know I won’t be far behind.”

Kevin’s teeth gleamed briefly in the gloom. “Right,” he said. He felt up his hand with his little finger extended. “Pinkie promise.”

“What are we, babies?” Sami grumbled, but he held out his hand as well and felt Kevin’s pinky link into his. Kevin’s hand was surprisingly warm; at the touch Sami realized how cold he’d gotten and shivered, pulling his hand back to chafe at his own arms. 

Kevin gave him a measuring look. “There’s a blanket in the back seat. You should get there and get under it, keep warm.”

“What are you gonna do, just freeze?” Sami punched Kevin’s shoulder. “We’ll keep warmer if we get under it together.”

Kevin’s face went a bit stiff and Sami was afraid it had sounded weird--but why? They were wrestlers, they’d been a lot more physically close than that--but then he nodded. Sami started to crawl into the back seat but Kevin stopped him. “I’m not lying on top of you, dope,” he grumbled as he clambered awkwardly into the back seat and lay down, unfolding the big coarse emergency blanket. “Get over here,” he said.

Sami scrambled between the seats and lay down next to Kevin in the back seat--well, sort of next to, sort of across. It wasn’t like there was really any other option. Kevin draped the blanket around both of them, tucking it tightly under their bodies to keep the heat in, and Sami found himself with his head on Kevin’s shoulder, his arms around him to keep from falling off into the footwells. Kevin’s arms were curled around him as well. 

It felt nice.

They just lay there for a long moment. The windows were covered with snow now, leaving the inside of the car pitch black. Everything sounded muffled and distant. It was like they were the only people in the world. The only people in the world who mattered. The warmth of Kevin’s body seemed to fill Sami with comfort. Everything felt just right.

“Do you ever regret,” he said a little sleepily, “not sticking with Rougeau’s? Maybe you could be with WWE right now.”

_“Never,”_ Kevin said with a strange heavy emphasis. “This was the only way. This was the right way.”

“Mmm,” Sami said, feeling even warmer and not knowing exactly why. “I want to get there the right way too.”

“What’s the right way for you?” Kevin said. There was an odd belligerent undertone in his voice. “What’s that mean, _the right way?”_

Sami thought about it for a moment, but he already knew the answer. Any other time he would have said something else, something that was also true but wasn’t the _answer._ But here, now, in this strange drifting silence and darkness, when it was just the two of them in their own little world of warmth and safety…

“The right way is the way I end up by your side,” he said.

Kevin went still, and then Sami felt him shiver slightly, a little tremor in his arms and chest. “Ah,” he said.

Sami buried his face in Kevin’s shoulder, unsure why the sound of that wordless syllable had made him feel so many different things at once. “What do you want for the future?” he asked, trying to distract himself from his pounding heart. “I mean, besides getting to WWE.”

There was a long silence, broken only by the sound of drifting snow. Then Kevin said in a very low voice, “I want to kiss you.”

Sami thought about that for a moment. Everything seemed so distant and unreal. Kevin’s hands twitched and then were steady again, as if he had thought about making a break from the car into the blizzard-swept night. Sami listened to his heart hammering, felt Kevin’s heart against his. Then he murmured into Kevin’s shoulder, “Why wait for the future?”

He lifted his head and smiled at Kevin. In the darkness, he couldn’t see Kevin’s expression well, but he could hear his breaths staggering.

“Why not now?” Sami said, and kissed him.

It was a terrifyingly gentle kiss, and it went on for a long while in the warm silence: a slow exploration of lips and tongues and breaths. Eventually it drew to an end and Sami trailed small kisses across Kevin’s face until he was resting his head on Kevin’s shoulder again. “That was nice,” he whispered. The words seemed utterly inadequate, but he tried to put his heart into them.

“Yeah,” Kevin said. “That was really nice.”

They lay there together in the darkness, warm and drifting together, and Sami slowly slipped into sleep in Kevin’s arms.

In the morning they were woken by a burst of sunrise and the sound of a tractor-trailer truck pulling into the rest stop. Sami rolled off of Kevin and into the footwell with a thump, and Kevin sat up and looked around, rubbing his eyes. They tumbled out into the snow-covered landscape, bickering about how best to get back to Montreal while cleaning the snow off the car, lobbing snowballs at each other across the hood. In this cold glittering world, the silence and warmth of the night before seemed almost a dream, the feel of Kevin’s mouth beneath his some kind of sweet illusion. 

Kevin never mentioned that moment again, and after a while Sami almost forgot it: the strange sweet peace of it, the warmth and safety. The two of them in the darkness together, arms around each other.

How nothing else had mattered.

* * *

_**Sami to Kevin:** My day will come, and when it comes, I will do it **my** way! I will do it the **right** way!_ (Smackdown, September 2017)


End file.
